xoxoxo

Wearing beauty like armor
          the angel's would cast away their wings just to taste a sip of her 

She felt of candlesticks and forgotten books
          Of mossy stones and foggy nights 
          Of ball gowns and wealth
          
          Yet she tasted of red wine
          Leaving me enraptured in her cusp

I dont love you anymore. 
          Hell I never did to begin with.
          But I did love the idea that came with you.

Every day I am reminded that I dont need you
          But I do need to remember to forget you

Stuck in an endless loop of wanting to be good enough but never quiet reaching the bar
          
          Wanting to be wanted 
          
          Stuck sitting and pondering what you did but never quiet getting an answer
          
          Thinking and crying
          
          Sobbing even as you try to figure out why they no longer want you around, as to why you're not invited places and having to practically BEG to get them to come around. 
          
          Is this what I've come to, the backup?
          Worn down
          Wasted
          Never good enough
          
          The one that people come to when all other plans fall through 
          
          Did they even like me in the first place?
          Or was I just someone else for them to use.

Is it bad, that after I die I want people to cry?
          At my funeral I want no dry eyes in the room
          I want people to fall apart and into eachother
          Where they can all somewhat understand each others pain
          Where people can sob and spill stories and lament about how they miss me so
          
          Is it bad, that after I die I want people to mourn?
          After I pass I want people to grieve 
          I want my friends and family to long for me
          Desperately grasping at our last conversations
          Desperately wishing for me to be there with them as if I had never left
          
          Is it bad, that after I die I want to be remembered?
          People learning about me and loving me
          I want to become a house hold name not to be forgotten
          To become one that people write books about
          To become someone in this world that would forever be loved and cherished 
          
          Is it bad?
          
          

When I die I want to be cremated
          And put into tiny little little vases 
          Maybe even pieces of jewelry 
          And given away to my close friends and family
          And over time as life goes on 
          I'll be spread out
          When they lose their locket or bracelet 
          I might even end up on the street
          Just resting on the ground 
          Slipped off their wrist
          Maybe at a pawn shop 
          Being sold to a nice couple
          When they accidentally donate me to goodwill
          My little vase resting on the shelf 
          Waiting to see who picks me out
          Over the rest of the countless knickknacks 
          To be taken into their home 
          And given a spot on the mantle
          With them being none the wiser
          I could even end up where I started
          Spread out at my favorite places
          My ashes resting on dewy grass
          Then I'll be able to enjoy the world
          As I always wished to when I was alive..
          
          
          
          When I die I want to be cremated 

the idea of you is like using a bit too much vanilla while baking... you think itll be sweet and fragrant but instead its bitter and pungent masked by a nice thought

Im so sad
          My life feels as if its crumbling
          Falling to pieces 
          As the pressure ways down 
          Hard on my shoulders
          I'm reminded of the fact that I am delicate 
          Made of fine China 
          Ready to break 

love the bio, fam. ♥️